Now readers, we have a new character. What will he be? Will he be an optimistic kid willing to save the world with his powers of identity control? Or will he be the brat who is planning to use his capabilities to wreck the entire world in his quest for destructive fun?
While I wait for your reply, I will continue the story with the characters I already have. We begin the story with The Stick escaping jail. Stepping out of it, actually, since they imprisoned him in a jail with bars, which obviously was dumb. And at the same time, Hemo decided that it is about time he gets more money using his blood-letting powers for evil other than selling his blood, which is in so high a supply that the local Red Cross uses it to lubricate their door hinges.
But fortunately, Heroman is flying above them. Or floating, or disturbing space-time as we know it; a human being flapping his arms never really got him flying, right? He sees Hemo, robbing a grocery store with his skull dagger. The police are knocked out cold after slipping on Hemo’s blood and hitting their heads on the road. The customers are stepping away from this man wearing an ugly, ugly costume, pushing grocery carts filled above the brim with food to sate his appetite. And the man, the grotesque outfit, the revolting stench, Heroman must do something! So he swooped down and poured all the bottles of Schlopper’s Anti-Bloodstain Formula: Roast Turkey Odor in the store to clean up the mess. Then he patched up all the police by almost-totally entombing them from feet to neck in casts. And he attached clothesline clips on all the customers’ noses. And being a cartoon, he did that all in 5 seconds, which is still enough time for Hemo to blood-jet his way out of the scene with a lot of food.
And The Stick? He managed to rob all their money while Heroman flew away with the people he “helped” as truly, helplessly asphyxiated or cast out of action.
And that is it with their lives.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Ver 16
Meanwhile, while Heroman was dropping grand pianos on escaping criminals’ cars, The Stick pretending to be languishing in jail, and Hemo bleeding Pygg Bank wet with his blood and dry with its money, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha is finally repaired. And just across the street, Ver is visited by his sister and her little kid. Normally Ver would be charmed with how technology in the form of a portable gaming device would keep his nephew happy, but the thing is interfering with his life support systems. His sister noticed the fluctuations with the Medical-o-gram-izer® and tried to tell his nephew to stop playing. Finally, because Ver felt his head throb, he spoke, which hurt quite a lot. He said “If you keep on playing video games, you will be like one.”
“POOF!”
They were all shocked when they saw the kid turn into an orc. A large, green, pixelated orc, just like his video game character. “Whoa!” the kid-orc said, and turned off his gaming device. He turned back into normal. “I guess I really must have been playing too much after all.” said the kid. “And I must have been thinking too much of your addiction to playing.” said the mother. “And I think I had too much sedatives today.” said Ver. And his body acted as if it ingested too much drugs, and Ver began to see clouds. Not the type that had a beautiful blue sky and brightly shining sun as the background, but the type that had normal vision, only very foggy. The nurses and the doctors began to rush to Ver to know what again is happening to him and advised his sister and nephew to go home.
Upon arriving home, the kid discovered the Ver-given superpower he had: to transform into any videogame character he was playing.
“This will be fun.”
“POOF!”
They were all shocked when they saw the kid turn into an orc. A large, green, pixelated orc, just like his video game character. “Whoa!” the kid-orc said, and turned off his gaming device. He turned back into normal. “I guess I really must have been playing too much after all.” said the kid. “And I must have been thinking too much of your addiction to playing.” said the mother. “And I think I had too much sedatives today.” said Ver. And his body acted as if it ingested too much drugs, and Ver began to see clouds. Not the type that had a beautiful blue sky and brightly shining sun as the background, but the type that had normal vision, only very foggy. The nurses and the doctors began to rush to Ver to know what again is happening to him and advised his sister and nephew to go home.
Upon arriving home, the kid discovered the Ver-given superpower he had: to transform into any videogame character he was playing.
“This will be fun.”
Ver 15
Are we missing something? Oh yes, the epic superhero-supervillain battle. So I’ll let you have it.
We see Heroman flapping his arms, flying over the city of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, scanning for crime. Then suddenly, he sighted a glint of a bodyless head with a fez. “The legendary The Stick! The legendary Stick, The! The Stick The legendary! The Stick of Legends! Oh wait that’s not right. Well, whatever...” Then Heroman swooped down with his arms folded back and a diving plane sound trailing him, intent on catching this guy-lollipop-supervillain. And at the same time, The Stick also sighted a glint of a person in an insufficiently-described outfit hurtling towards him, so he sidestepped and ran away. This left Heroman plunge all the way down to the ground, smashing a small hole that always managed to lead the person who made it, who is in this case is Heroman, all the way into a backwards country with a thousand alphabets. Of course today it isn’t that backward, but that is the way Heroman goes because I still need him to finish this story. So Heroman managed to be back to where The Stick managed to dodge his attack, and hunt him down using his Dimension Distortion Detection Device®, in short a gadget that will find The Stick via his signature lack of an intrinsic third dimension. Where did Heroman get that? He just does; he’s a cartoon. So he proceeded to hunt for his prey, when he was suddenly smacked in the back of his head with a bat. Heroman quickly turned around and saw an amazed The Stick wielding a wooden bat bent in such a way that it contours Heroman’s head, right up to the ears! Of course this comes as no surprise to Heroman, who is too thick (as evidenced by lack of damage to his head) to even think of that. Instead he punches The Stick, but the gap between his knuckles fit The Stick comfortably, and The Stick counterattacked with an interdimensional punch! If The Stick was 3-dimensional, that punch would have broken his own fingers, but this time, he was able to knock out Heroman, who had sprouted stars and spirals over his head, accompanied with birds. Then when Heroman got up a little while later, he sported a black eye. How did The Stick do that? I don’t know. So anyway Heroman shook his face and became annoyed, then spun around in a crazy twist and transformed into a weirder version of himself, but with a police uniform and a green face, and stretched his arm (the long arm of the law, I guess), grabbed The Stick, and called in some K9 units to play fetch. After getting bitten in the face, with dog spit pouring into his universe, The Stick began to take damage, and after being mauled some more by the rest of the kennel, he ended up bruised, wounded and unconscious. Then like any good superhero will do, Heroman dumped The Stick into jail and flew away, conspicuously missing the face and uniform he donned before. The Stick, however, is too beaten up to escape from the prison, and began to wonder who that person is.
And there you have it, the epic super-fight.
And that is it with the life of The Stick.
We see Heroman flapping his arms, flying over the city of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, scanning for crime. Then suddenly, he sighted a glint of a bodyless head with a fez. “The legendary The Stick! The legendary Stick, The! The Stick The legendary! The Stick of Legends! Oh wait that’s not right. Well, whatever...” Then Heroman swooped down with his arms folded back and a diving plane sound trailing him, intent on catching this guy-lollipop-supervillain. And at the same time, The Stick also sighted a glint of a person in an insufficiently-described outfit hurtling towards him, so he sidestepped and ran away. This left Heroman plunge all the way down to the ground, smashing a small hole that always managed to lead the person who made it, who is in this case is Heroman, all the way into a backwards country with a thousand alphabets. Of course today it isn’t that backward, but that is the way Heroman goes because I still need him to finish this story. So Heroman managed to be back to where The Stick managed to dodge his attack, and hunt him down using his Dimension Distortion Detection Device®, in short a gadget that will find The Stick via his signature lack of an intrinsic third dimension. Where did Heroman get that? He just does; he’s a cartoon. So he proceeded to hunt for his prey, when he was suddenly smacked in the back of his head with a bat. Heroman quickly turned around and saw an amazed The Stick wielding a wooden bat bent in such a way that it contours Heroman’s head, right up to the ears! Of course this comes as no surprise to Heroman, who is too thick (as evidenced by lack of damage to his head) to even think of that. Instead he punches The Stick, but the gap between his knuckles fit The Stick comfortably, and The Stick counterattacked with an interdimensional punch! If The Stick was 3-dimensional, that punch would have broken his own fingers, but this time, he was able to knock out Heroman, who had sprouted stars and spirals over his head, accompanied with birds. Then when Heroman got up a little while later, he sported a black eye. How did The Stick do that? I don’t know. So anyway Heroman shook his face and became annoyed, then spun around in a crazy twist and transformed into a weirder version of himself, but with a police uniform and a green face, and stretched his arm (the long arm of the law, I guess), grabbed The Stick, and called in some K9 units to play fetch. After getting bitten in the face, with dog spit pouring into his universe, The Stick began to take damage, and after being mauled some more by the rest of the kennel, he ended up bruised, wounded and unconscious. Then like any good superhero will do, Heroman dumped The Stick into jail and flew away, conspicuously missing the face and uniform he donned before. The Stick, however, is too beaten up to escape from the prison, and began to wonder who that person is.
And there you have it, the epic super-fight.
And that is it with the life of The Stick.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Ver 14
Now we have Hemo as a free man. Pride wounded, yes, but still free. Let us look at the events that night in another light.
The Stick has decided to rob another bank that night because he is planning to retire within a week, so he infiltrated the bank the way he did at Safe Bank. Upon entering the vault, he simply dumped all wealth he could find in his fez and slipped out to see a weird man with an ugly, ugly costume. The Stick just watched as this man slit his own finger, and was surprised when a stream of blood hit his feet, and he tripped. The Stick then saw the odd figure walk to the vault, trying to open it without keys. With a laugh, The Stick then decided to play a cruel trick on this man who valiantly tried to attack the Stick. He waited for the “blood” man to open the vault, and when they found the vault empty, The Stick laughed. The bloody man then slit his wrist to spew a deluge of blood, but The Stick was quick to catch the blood in his fez. After two minutes, The Stick decided to pull the plug on the man, and released the stored blood, knocking out the man. The Stick then decided to carry his loot back home to invest it tomorrow, happily thinking that the police will be baffled as to how the badly-dressed man and the sea of blood got into the vault, and all its former contents out. As gratitude for masking the true robber, namely him, The Stick then sneaked into the police headquarters and robbed the skull dagger, and placed it by his bedside. The Stick then finally invested in stocks and banks and such, but he became bored after just one week, and resorted to robbing just because he can.
And that is it with the life of The Stick.
The Stick has decided to rob another bank that night because he is planning to retire within a week, so he infiltrated the bank the way he did at Safe Bank. Upon entering the vault, he simply dumped all wealth he could find in his fez and slipped out to see a weird man with an ugly, ugly costume. The Stick just watched as this man slit his own finger, and was surprised when a stream of blood hit his feet, and he tripped. The Stick then saw the odd figure walk to the vault, trying to open it without keys. With a laugh, The Stick then decided to play a cruel trick on this man who valiantly tried to attack the Stick. He waited for the “blood” man to open the vault, and when they found the vault empty, The Stick laughed. The bloody man then slit his wrist to spew a deluge of blood, but The Stick was quick to catch the blood in his fez. After two minutes, The Stick decided to pull the plug on the man, and released the stored blood, knocking out the man. The Stick then decided to carry his loot back home to invest it tomorrow, happily thinking that the police will be baffled as to how the badly-dressed man and the sea of blood got into the vault, and all its former contents out. As gratitude for masking the true robber, namely him, The Stick then sneaked into the police headquarters and robbed the skull dagger, and placed it by his bedside. The Stick then finally invested in stocks and banks and such, but he became bored after just one week, and resorted to robbing just because he can.
And that is it with the life of The Stick.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Ver 13
And so, one night, Hemo decided to rob a local bank because his earnings from mugging is not anymore sufficient to cover the additional food expenses due to his eating requirements being greatly increased by his abilities. But little does he know that this night will be a surprise.
Being undefeated, he is confident that he could pull off the heist alone with the most badass of ways. So he broke the glass door of the bank with a rock and short-circuited all sensors with gooey blood – his, of course. But upon reaching the vault, he glimpsed upon a figure, and immediately shot at it with blood spurting from his wound at high velocity, and knocked out the figure. After that, Hemo tried to open the vault like the way it is done in the movies, with the ear to the door as he turns the knob while simultaneously opening the keyhole with a nifty trick he was testing for weeks: loosening the internal workings of the keyhole with blood and trying to make a copy of the key with his blood and opening the lock with his ‘blood-key’. In short, he was relying on luck to make his blood open the lock. And he was really lucky that night, because he was able to open the vault without much difficulty and finally got inside to get his reward. Only, that there is no reward! The vault is emptied; not even a coin is spared. And after the shock, he tried to search the vault, but heard a voice behind him, laughing. With a mixed feeling composed mostly of negative ones, he slit his wrist and aimed the blood flow at the voice behind him but to his surprise; all he could see is what looks like a moon at gibbous phase, but with eyes, a mouth, and a fez. Not that Hemo knew it was a fez, but I am just giving you hints as to the true identity of the laughing figure (Actually, with blood flowing like the mighty, and noisy, Niagara Falls, Hemo couldn’t hear the laugh.). The laughing figure “took off” his fez and caught the stream of blood with it! Hemo tried to aim the blood flow to different parts of the “face”, but the fez seemed to home in on the blood. Then, when the blood flow stopped after about 2 minutes (Hemo stopped the blood flow, which allowed the more-numerous-than-an-average-human’s platelets to clot and patch up the wound at faster rates – something Hemo adapted since he always felt so hungry if he bled too much.), Hemo just looked at the weird figure. Then, the figure aimed his fez at Hemo, pulled out what seems to be a bathroom plug, and the sound of gushing water poured forth. Then gushing blood poured forth. The force of the flowing blood swept Hemo off, slamming him to the walls of the vault until he was unconscious.
When Hemo woke up, he was at hospital with a blood transfusion bag beside him. The thing is, the bag is full, and he feels fine. Hungry, yes, but fine. So he pulled out the blood-injecting equipment, wrapped a bandage around it, and ran away, somewhat shamed, but happy that he did not end up in jail and was still able to buy breakfast after mugging three people in a row. Oh, and his skull dagger? It was by his bedside, mysteriously not taken by the police as evidence for one of the bloodiest and cleanest robberies in Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich.
And for the dumb person who asks: Of course Hemo brought the dagger away with him in his escape from hospital. He ain't as dumb as most supervillains, you know.
Being undefeated, he is confident that he could pull off the heist alone with the most badass of ways. So he broke the glass door of the bank with a rock and short-circuited all sensors with gooey blood – his, of course. But upon reaching the vault, he glimpsed upon a figure, and immediately shot at it with blood spurting from his wound at high velocity, and knocked out the figure. After that, Hemo tried to open the vault like the way it is done in the movies, with the ear to the door as he turns the knob while simultaneously opening the keyhole with a nifty trick he was testing for weeks: loosening the internal workings of the keyhole with blood and trying to make a copy of the key with his blood and opening the lock with his ‘blood-key’. In short, he was relying on luck to make his blood open the lock. And he was really lucky that night, because he was able to open the vault without much difficulty and finally got inside to get his reward. Only, that there is no reward! The vault is emptied; not even a coin is spared. And after the shock, he tried to search the vault, but heard a voice behind him, laughing. With a mixed feeling composed mostly of negative ones, he slit his wrist and aimed the blood flow at the voice behind him but to his surprise; all he could see is what looks like a moon at gibbous phase, but with eyes, a mouth, and a fez. Not that Hemo knew it was a fez, but I am just giving you hints as to the true identity of the laughing figure (Actually, with blood flowing like the mighty, and noisy, Niagara Falls, Hemo couldn’t hear the laugh.). The laughing figure “took off” his fez and caught the stream of blood with it! Hemo tried to aim the blood flow to different parts of the “face”, but the fez seemed to home in on the blood. Then, when the blood flow stopped after about 2 minutes (Hemo stopped the blood flow, which allowed the more-numerous-than-an-average-human’s platelets to clot and patch up the wound at faster rates – something Hemo adapted since he always felt so hungry if he bled too much.), Hemo just looked at the weird figure. Then, the figure aimed his fez at Hemo, pulled out what seems to be a bathroom plug, and the sound of gushing water poured forth. Then gushing blood poured forth. The force of the flowing blood swept Hemo off, slamming him to the walls of the vault until he was unconscious.
When Hemo woke up, he was at hospital with a blood transfusion bag beside him. The thing is, the bag is full, and he feels fine. Hungry, yes, but fine. So he pulled out the blood-injecting equipment, wrapped a bandage around it, and ran away, somewhat shamed, but happy that he did not end up in jail and was still able to buy breakfast after mugging three people in a row. Oh, and his skull dagger? It was by his bedside, mysteriously not taken by the police as evidence for one of the bloodiest and cleanest robberies in Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich.
And for the dumb person who asks: Of course Hemo brought the dagger away with him in his escape from hospital. He ain't as dumb as most supervillains, you know.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Ver 12
Like any good supervillain, the progression from a shocking experience – this case, the pool of blood in his own basement – to a master criminal is a very obscure one. They say the mugger then killed all cats in his neighborhood, went to Iraq to provide blood transfusions for the Islamic fundamentalists, and returned on a vacation to trash the city of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, which is his hometown and base of operations. Still, some say his very pressurized blood poisoned the waters to cause red tide around the world. Still others say he just became a supervillain via obscure procedures. Whatever the case, the mugger now walks with blood on his hands and a new name: Hemo.
Like any good supervillain, Hemo knew he must have a name that suits him well, so he picked hemo. Why hemo? He discovered his powers while being emo. Since the power was related with blood, and thus hemoglobin, he added an H to emo, becoming Hemo. Wearing black, ugly outfits that honor the rock subculture, he is at first glance, emo and most probably will kill himself in 3 minutes. But don’t be fooled. He will point a finger at you and mug you while waving a black skull dagger with his other hand. If you dare engage him in close quarters combat, he slits his finger and shoots you in the eyes until you get blinded and ineffective at fighting while beating you up with his improved physique (The speed by which his circulatory system works means more oxygen and food are delivered to all cells, making him fitter than the average mugger. The downside is that he is very, very hungry if he uses up too much organic material, say, bleeding a river of blood, from his already efficient digestive system.). Then he robs you. If, however, you carry a gun and shoot him, blood will most likely spurt out of the bullet wound, hitting you with such force that you are knocked down unconscious and dirty. Then he robs you.
Like any good supervillain, Hemo remains free from bars since police have no effective counter against him. Police small arms fire will just incapacitate the gunner, while running him over is almost impossible with his physical and mental capabilities letting him avoid the police cars. The mecha is still under repair, so Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich is hopelessly under the mercy of Hemo.
And like any good supervillain, he gets defeated by a superhero almost all of the time.
Like any good supervillain, Hemo knew he must have a name that suits him well, so he picked hemo. Why hemo? He discovered his powers while being emo. Since the power was related with blood, and thus hemoglobin, he added an H to emo, becoming Hemo. Wearing black, ugly outfits that honor the rock subculture, he is at first glance, emo and most probably will kill himself in 3 minutes. But don’t be fooled. He will point a finger at you and mug you while waving a black skull dagger with his other hand. If you dare engage him in close quarters combat, he slits his finger and shoots you in the eyes until you get blinded and ineffective at fighting while beating you up with his improved physique (The speed by which his circulatory system works means more oxygen and food are delivered to all cells, making him fitter than the average mugger. The downside is that he is very, very hungry if he uses up too much organic material, say, bleeding a river of blood, from his already efficient digestive system.). Then he robs you. If, however, you carry a gun and shoot him, blood will most likely spurt out of the bullet wound, hitting you with such force that you are knocked down unconscious and dirty. Then he robs you.
Like any good supervillain, Hemo remains free from bars since police have no effective counter against him. Police small arms fire will just incapacitate the gunner, while running him over is almost impossible with his physical and mental capabilities letting him avoid the police cars. The mecha is still under repair, so Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich is hopelessly under the mercy of Hemo.
And like any good supervillain, he gets defeated by a superhero almost all of the time.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Ver 11
I guess we are done with some side stories now, so let us continue with the lives of our main characters. Ver is in hospital due to broken bones, the commissioner is still arguing with the mayor concerning the funds for repair and maintenance of the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha, and the Stick is a millionaire who enjoys petty crime and thievery as a pastime; he is never arrested. Heroman, being some sort of cartoon, doesn’t exist until he is needed for a fun story. But don’t think I will forget that poor mugger; he has a good background just waiting to happen.
After two consecutive failed muggings, he felt like he needed a medical checkup. “I think I must have been drinking too much lately.” he said. So he went to the local clinic, where a kind nurse first thought to take his blood pressure, of all things. So the BP apparatus was set up, wound around his arm, and pumped. What the nurse saw surprised her. “Sir, you have impossibly, impossibly high blood pressure! You should be dead, i...” (Not very good a nurse, no?) But the mugger had enough, running away towards the local bar and drinking beer as if it were water or free Gatorade. In the next months after, he was manically depressed, and became emo. Until one day, he took his own life.
Well, not really. He did what emo people usually do other than listen to emo songs in some dark corner of the room: slash the wrists. So in the dark basement of his home, he took one of his skull knives and slashed his wrists with his ‘last words’: “Goodbye, cruel world.” Blood spurted, then flowed, then gushed like a red geyser, or a funneled reverse waterfall, or a continuous bloody sneeze. In fact, the wound was releasing that highly pressured blood that the black emo light bulb in the basement shattered when it was hit with the hemogoblinous liquid. Some thirty minutes later, with a puddle of blood about 4 inches in depth, his blood fountain weakening, and the mugger was still able to say “I think I am finally fainting, dying of blood loss. It’s better than to drown in my own blood.” And after a few more hours, the blood fountain finally squirted its last, which awakened the emo mugger. He looked at his wrist to squeeze out the last of his own blood in a last ditch emo suicide attempt, only to find a scar. He didn’t seem to notice the pool of blood reaching up to his knees.
“The blood fountain, it was all a dream. Whew. I’m hungry.” he said groggily (from sleep and not from blood loss), so he took a bath and went out of the house to buy a burger and coffee. When he was fully awake, he returned to the basement to continue his emo stuff, only to see that there is blood all over, with insects and creepy stuff in his basement being fed by blood.
The mugger freaked out.
After two consecutive failed muggings, he felt like he needed a medical checkup. “I think I must have been drinking too much lately.” he said. So he went to the local clinic, where a kind nurse first thought to take his blood pressure, of all things. So the BP apparatus was set up, wound around his arm, and pumped. What the nurse saw surprised her. “Sir, you have impossibly, impossibly high blood pressure! You should be dead, i...” (Not very good a nurse, no?) But the mugger had enough, running away towards the local bar and drinking beer as if it were water or free Gatorade. In the next months after, he was manically depressed, and became emo. Until one day, he took his own life.
Well, not really. He did what emo people usually do other than listen to emo songs in some dark corner of the room: slash the wrists. So in the dark basement of his home, he took one of his skull knives and slashed his wrists with his ‘last words’: “Goodbye, cruel world.” Blood spurted, then flowed, then gushed like a red geyser, or a funneled reverse waterfall, or a continuous bloody sneeze. In fact, the wound was releasing that highly pressured blood that the black emo light bulb in the basement shattered when it was hit with the hemogoblinous liquid. Some thirty minutes later, with a puddle of blood about 4 inches in depth, his blood fountain weakening, and the mugger was still able to say “I think I am finally fainting, dying of blood loss. It’s better than to drown in my own blood.” And after a few more hours, the blood fountain finally squirted its last, which awakened the emo mugger. He looked at his wrist to squeeze out the last of his own blood in a last ditch emo suicide attempt, only to find a scar. He didn’t seem to notice the pool of blood reaching up to his knees.
“The blood fountain, it was all a dream. Whew. I’m hungry.” he said groggily (from sleep and not from blood loss), so he took a bath and went out of the house to buy a burger and coffee. When he was fully awake, he returned to the basement to continue his emo stuff, only to see that there is blood all over, with insects and creepy stuff in his basement being fed by blood.
The mugger freaked out.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Ver 10
But wait, there’s more. You thought this Ver storyline will not reach 10 entries? This is the tenth entry, and ideas are finally pouring in.
We would call the previously encountered schizophrenic as Heroman from now on, because there is no one else to call Heroman that is important to the story. And if you say that I am breaking copyright laws, I do not. I researched Google and found out that there is no comic book character named Heroman, only Hero Man. And I don’t think I will name a to-be superhero after a florist I never knew existed until I researched Google.
Yes, a to-be superhero, and by that I mean Heroman the schizophrenic. Because of that “POOF” which ended the previous entry, Heroman suddenly acquired superpowers. He now has cartoon-y comic cosmic superpowers! Not that it is that great, really. It is just interesting and fun to picture, and even more fun to have in real life. It is not possible yet for us non-comics, but for a comic portraying an approximation of real life, a character following both cartoon and non-cartoon physics is potentially powerful.
Doubting? You’ll see.
So we once again see the same criminal that failed to mug Ver in the previous entry. I promise, I will add the text because this might be the most interesting dialogue in the whole storyline. And to not spoil the dialogue with paragraphs, I will adopt something I see in scriptwriting: lines.
Mugged: Why are you mugging me? Don’t you have a job or something?
Mugger: (Pocketing the money.) Because this is a fine day to sit down and sip a mug of ale. But first I have to have the money, right? That is why I am mugging you. And this is my job.
Heroman: HEROMAN TO THE RESCUE!
Mugger: You?
Mugged runs away while Mugger shoots Heroman, who gets hit in the stomach in mid-flight and falls down. Heroman stands up with a cartoon-y darkened abdomen, but otherwise he sustained no injuries, being a cartoon.
Heroman: (With strange accent) haHA!
Mugger: Bulletproof vest, eh? Headshot! (Shoots Heroman at head. For some strange reason, the pistol bullet (Why pistol? Because it is harder to mug somebody with a shotgun.) explodes right before impact with Heroman’s head with a yellow and orange flash and a quickly-dissipated cloud of smoke, leaving a headless Heroman. Headless Heroman sprouts his head a second later, just like in the cartoons.)
Heroman: (With that same strange accent) haHA!
Mugger: Magic amulet of bulletproofing, eh? (Draws a pair of skull knives) I’ve heard of that before. (Proceeds to kill Heroman in melee combat)
Mugger charges to the right of the comic strip, where Heroman is spinning his arm and balled fist in a clockwise fashion to “charge up” his punch. Mugger gets hit by Heroman’s fist, and flies away without being that badly injured. Mugger lands on Ver, who instantly recognizes his assailant.
Ver: (Angrily.) Get off me, you bloody mugger!
Air: POOF!
Mugger, in a mangled heap, instantly gets teleported to side of Ver, who runs away because Mugger is still holding a gun, which was fortunately emptied at Heroman.
We would call the previously encountered schizophrenic as Heroman from now on, because there is no one else to call Heroman that is important to the story. And if you say that I am breaking copyright laws, I do not. I researched Google and found out that there is no comic book character named Heroman, only Hero Man. And I don’t think I will name a to-be superhero after a florist I never knew existed until I researched Google.
Yes, a to-be superhero, and by that I mean Heroman the schizophrenic. Because of that “POOF” which ended the previous entry, Heroman suddenly acquired superpowers. He now has cartoon-y comic cosmic superpowers! Not that it is that great, really. It is just interesting and fun to picture, and even more fun to have in real life. It is not possible yet for us non-comics, but for a comic portraying an approximation of real life, a character following both cartoon and non-cartoon physics is potentially powerful.
Doubting? You’ll see.
So we once again see the same criminal that failed to mug Ver in the previous entry. I promise, I will add the text because this might be the most interesting dialogue in the whole storyline. And to not spoil the dialogue with paragraphs, I will adopt something I see in scriptwriting: lines.
Mugged: Why are you mugging me? Don’t you have a job or something?
Mugger: (Pocketing the money.) Because this is a fine day to sit down and sip a mug of ale. But first I have to have the money, right? That is why I am mugging you. And this is my job.
Heroman: HEROMAN TO THE RESCUE!
Mugger: You?
Mugged runs away while Mugger shoots Heroman, who gets hit in the stomach in mid-flight and falls down. Heroman stands up with a cartoon-y darkened abdomen, but otherwise he sustained no injuries, being a cartoon.
Heroman: (With strange accent) haHA!
Mugger: Bulletproof vest, eh? Headshot! (Shoots Heroman at head. For some strange reason, the pistol bullet (Why pistol? Because it is harder to mug somebody with a shotgun.) explodes right before impact with Heroman’s head with a yellow and orange flash and a quickly-dissipated cloud of smoke, leaving a headless Heroman. Headless Heroman sprouts his head a second later, just like in the cartoons.)
Heroman: (With that same strange accent) haHA!
Mugger: Magic amulet of bulletproofing, eh? (Draws a pair of skull knives) I’ve heard of that before. (Proceeds to kill Heroman in melee combat)
Mugger charges to the right of the comic strip, where Heroman is spinning his arm and balled fist in a clockwise fashion to “charge up” his punch. Mugger gets hit by Heroman’s fist, and flies away without being that badly injured. Mugger lands on Ver, who instantly recognizes his assailant.
Ver: (Angrily.) Get off me, you bloody mugger!
Air: POOF!
Mugger, in a mangled heap, instantly gets teleported to side of Ver, who runs away because Mugger is still holding a gun, which was fortunately emptied at Heroman.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Ver 09
Sadly, though, this is the last comic strip in my notebook, so this may be the ending of the Ver storyline. Not really, since we can continue the story. Now, let me begin the way the episode began.
We see our main character, Ver, being mugged by a common criminal. Because these things involve conversations, I would usually not type whatever it is they are saying, but this is Ver. Because he is an unlying person, his words clarify what would seem to be deus ex machina writing, like when he suddenly swings a bat from nowhere and knocks his mugger unconscious. And who would have guessed, Ver did just say something I will not type and suddenly, to even Ver's surprise, he whacked his assailant with a baseball bat. The end.
Not really. Not even close. Because right when the criminal was collapsing of baseball injuries, a weird man wearing goggles, a cape, and an insufficiently described garment was screaming "HEROMAN TO THE RESCUE!" while lunging at where the thief's torso was a second ago. He is Heroman, a perhaps schizophrenic man without superpowers that believes he is a superhero with superpowers that is named Heroman. And of course he is not named Heroman; who would name his or her son Heroman? Oh, and for those who ask why there are no female main characters, Heroman is not female either. Continuing with the strip, the commotion Heroman caused let the mugger escape, but left him in a heap on the ground, from which he quickly got up and tried to pursue the villain, but again failed. All Ver could say about Heroman is "What a cartoon."
"POOF!"
We see our main character, Ver, being mugged by a common criminal. Because these things involve conversations, I would usually not type whatever it is they are saying, but this is Ver. Because he is an unlying person, his words clarify what would seem to be deus ex machina writing, like when he suddenly swings a bat from nowhere and knocks his mugger unconscious. And who would have guessed, Ver did just say something I will not type and suddenly, to even Ver's surprise, he whacked his assailant with a baseball bat. The end.
Not really. Not even close. Because right when the criminal was collapsing of baseball injuries, a weird man wearing goggles, a cape, and an insufficiently described garment was screaming "HEROMAN TO THE RESCUE!" while lunging at where the thief's torso was a second ago. He is Heroman, a perhaps schizophrenic man without superpowers that believes he is a superhero with superpowers that is named Heroman. And of course he is not named Heroman; who would name his or her son Heroman? Oh, and for those who ask why there are no female main characters, Heroman is not female either. Continuing with the strip, the commotion Heroman caused let the mugger escape, but left him in a heap on the ground, from which he quickly got up and tried to pursue the villain, but again failed. All Ver could say about Heroman is "What a cartoon."
"POOF!"
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Ver 08
According to the next comic strip in my notebook, The Stick will rob a bank for the first time because in his robberies, or revenge against Ver and the society that supported him, he acquired a taste for luxury.
The Stick is supposed to enter Safe Bank, a bank that looks like a safe. In here, the Stick's abilities are shown in full gray-white color as he slips through between the closed glass doors of the entrance. Then, he sticks himself into the wall, making himself invisible by being as flat as the wall, walking through the alternating dark-bright room I have seen before in shooter mobile games. Then, he walks through the laser detectors, the one-dimensional legs, arms, and torso not blocking any photons. For the big door to the vault, he slips through like any one-dimensional character does, and robs everything inside, putting them into his fez. Then he escapes, but his head triggered one of those tricky laser detectors, and an alarm is raised. The Stick runs out with the guards inside the building shooting their rapid-fire maschinengewehr at an impossible target. At that, the Stick runs as fast as his feet can propel him, being still a relatively inexperienced supervillain (Remember, this is his first time in robbing a bank.) and off to an alley, where his bent foot trips him. There, he found a jacket, and had a brilliant idea (Why do you think he would choose a fez for a headpiece?) He bent his head, put the cape on it, and designed a cage to give the jacket a three-dimensional look his own body can't. With this disguise, he banked all his loot in the Pygg Bank (shaped like a piggy bank) and "got his sixth Bugatti Royale."
And that is that with the life of The Stick
The Stick is supposed to enter Safe Bank, a bank that looks like a safe. In here, the Stick's abilities are shown in full gray-white color as he slips through between the closed glass doors of the entrance. Then, he sticks himself into the wall, making himself invisible by being as flat as the wall, walking through the alternating dark-bright room I have seen before in shooter mobile games. Then, he walks through the laser detectors, the one-dimensional legs, arms, and torso not blocking any photons. For the big door to the vault, he slips through like any one-dimensional character does, and robs everything inside, putting them into his fez. Then he escapes, but his head triggered one of those tricky laser detectors, and an alarm is raised. The Stick runs out with the guards inside the building shooting their rapid-fire maschinengewehr at an impossible target. At that, the Stick runs as fast as his feet can propel him, being still a relatively inexperienced supervillain (Remember, this is his first time in robbing a bank.) and off to an alley, where his bent foot trips him. There, he found a jacket, and had a brilliant idea (Why do you think he would choose a fez for a headpiece?) He bent his head, put the cape on it, and designed a cage to give the jacket a three-dimensional look his own body can't. With this disguise, he banked all his loot in the Pygg Bank (shaped like a piggy bank) and "got his sixth Bugatti Royale."
And that is that with the life of The Stick
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Ver 07
So you expect this story to end? No, no, not yet. For you see, we have just received the draft notebook for Ver, and yes, how much it has diverged from the original sketch from the very start.
Oh, and concerning the switch from Multiply to Blogger? It is about ensuring the existence of mttspiii in Blogger. Since Multiply mttspiii is stable, like Wordpress mttspiii and especially Livejournal mttspiii, the focus to Blogger is expected.
So where were we? Ah, yes. The unnamed person which we will call Stick. Or rather, The Stick. He is a man of at most dual dimensions, but is mostly a stick, only thinner. As is said before, he has a circular two-dimensional head, two-dimensional hands, and two-dimensional feet. Because of this physical transformation, he cannot be seen at certain angles (The common Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereichite has binocular vision, which means The Stick's two-dimensional head can be seen from almost any angle.) This means he can slip through virtually anything and is hard to see, even harder to hit, which are very useful skills. Of course, the downside is that he can't eat normal food (Fortunately for him, quantum biophysics tell us that he would be more or less a universe in himself, so due to the conversation of mass-energy, he will neither lose nor gain considerable amounts of energy, and thus mass. Technically, any energy can sustain him and his quirky universe in our own universe, but I hate dabbling about theoretical physics.) He can't work properly either because his colleagues got freaked out talking to a floating head, neither can he wear clothes except for his fez because they tend to fall off him (but it doesn't really matter since there is nothing to see anyway). And yes, he can't even sit, since a one-dimensional posterior doesn't really give much of support anyway.
Because of the effects of his queer condition, he became poor and resorted to robbing, but was obviously inexperienced and was seen, arrested, and jailed. While in prison, he contemplated on his anomalies and vowed to have revenge on Ver, whom he still loathes and blames for his mishap, and in just one night, escapes pretty easily (He slipped through the jail bars, since he technically can pass through any gap, but certain gaps such as the one between atoms of solids are off-limits since the great energy in bonds can rip havoc into his universes and himself.) Since then, he became a solitary robber of homes, able to slip between doors and door frames and keep the loot in his deus ex machina-ish fez that keeps all the stash similar to how a holding bag works.
At the same time, police have been on alert for a floating head with a fez very similar to how The Stick would be seen, last seen in the vicinity of 91% of all robberies in Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich. All police attempts to catch him have failed, making The Stick technically a supervillain, but also a myth, generating a number of The Stick wanna-bes throughout the city, who were obviously very easily apprehended.
More of this character in the next post. How exciting!
Oh, and concerning the switch from Multiply to Blogger? It is about ensuring the existence of mttspiii in Blogger. Since Multiply mttspiii is stable, like Wordpress mttspiii and especially Livejournal mttspiii, the focus to Blogger is expected.
So where were we? Ah, yes. The unnamed person which we will call Stick. Or rather, The Stick. He is a man of at most dual dimensions, but is mostly a stick, only thinner. As is said before, he has a circular two-dimensional head, two-dimensional hands, and two-dimensional feet. Because of this physical transformation, he cannot be seen at certain angles (The common Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereichite has binocular vision, which means The Stick's two-dimensional head can be seen from almost any angle.) This means he can slip through virtually anything and is hard to see, even harder to hit, which are very useful skills. Of course, the downside is that he can't eat normal food (Fortunately for him, quantum biophysics tell us that he would be more or less a universe in himself, so due to the conversation of mass-energy, he will neither lose nor gain considerable amounts of energy, and thus mass. Technically, any energy can sustain him and his quirky universe in our own universe, but I hate dabbling about theoretical physics.) He can't work properly either because his colleagues got freaked out talking to a floating head, neither can he wear clothes except for his fez because they tend to fall off him (but it doesn't really matter since there is nothing to see anyway). And yes, he can't even sit, since a one-dimensional posterior doesn't really give much of support anyway.
Because of the effects of his queer condition, he became poor and resorted to robbing, but was obviously inexperienced and was seen, arrested, and jailed. While in prison, he contemplated on his anomalies and vowed to have revenge on Ver, whom he still loathes and blames for his mishap, and in just one night, escapes pretty easily (He slipped through the jail bars, since he technically can pass through any gap, but certain gaps such as the one between atoms of solids are off-limits since the great energy in bonds can rip havoc into his universes and himself.) Since then, he became a solitary robber of homes, able to slip between doors and door frames and keep the loot in his deus ex machina-ish fez that keeps all the stash similar to how a holding bag works.
At the same time, police have been on alert for a floating head with a fez very similar to how The Stick would be seen, last seen in the vicinity of 91% of all robberies in Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich. All police attempts to catch him have failed, making The Stick technically a supervillain, but also a myth, generating a number of The Stick wanna-bes throughout the city, who were obviously very easily apprehended.
More of this character in the next post. How exciting!
Ver 06
So you think the story of Ver is over? No, we've only just begun.
In the aftermath of the Problem incident, Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich became a messy place. Emergency feeding areas were scattered by the government throughout the city for the survivors of Problem's rampage and the battle between him and the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha. Construction workers proceeded to repair the rippled roads for the government food trucks, while the rest were rebuilding their homes, offices, and commercial establishments.
The Mythical David's Sling was returned to the local museum, the CEO of some DIY fortune-telling kit company disposed his ruby-encrusted glowsitck because it doesn't glow as good as when he purchased it, the police mecha was repaired and is now back in its site, camouflaged as the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters, and the police are now on alert after a spate of food robberies typical of disaster sites.
Since Problem disappeared according to the available local witnesses, and they are the whole of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, the police are having a hard time with the report.
Eventually the city returned to normal the way Townsville (Do you really need the Townsville link?) always does everyday when I watch it, with no one afraid of future attacks by giant strongman supervillains, no one fearing the police headquarters suddenly standing up and falling on them. No one even had scars or phobia from the mass electrocution; simply put, no one was that affected by the event. Except for one person.
He is a person whose details I forgot (My sketch notebook, where the storyblog is based, is not with me.). The thing is, he was once a friend of Ver who became thin due to the artificial famine caused by food-looters, but survived. Because this unnamed person was very thin, he was often teased by people around him, including Ver. But this all changed when Ver exclaimed "Nothing could possibly be thinner than you!"
"POOF!"
The unnamed person became very, very thin indeed. He became a mostly 1-dimensional man, but with a circular 2-dimensional face, hands, and feet. (Think of him as a stick character, or better yet, click this.)
And because his body was mostly one-dimensional, no one at that time saw him (He could be seen only as a stick, and when his two-dimensional features reflect enough light to hit the light receptors.) He then fled in the sort of shame someone normally gets when interdimensionally transformed, which I think is similar to a garment malfunction shame. But don't worry, he will return in the next story.
In the aftermath of the Problem incident, Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich became a messy place. Emergency feeding areas were scattered by the government throughout the city for the survivors of Problem's rampage and the battle between him and the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha. Construction workers proceeded to repair the rippled roads for the government food trucks, while the rest were rebuilding their homes, offices, and commercial establishments.
The Mythical David's Sling was returned to the local museum, the CEO of some DIY fortune-telling kit company disposed his ruby-encrusted glowsitck because it doesn't glow as good as when he purchased it, the police mecha was repaired and is now back in its site, camouflaged as the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters, and the police are now on alert after a spate of food robberies typical of disaster sites.
Since Problem disappeared according to the available local witnesses, and they are the whole of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, the police are having a hard time with the report.
Eventually the city returned to normal the way Townsville (Do you really need the Townsville link?) always does everyday when I watch it, with no one afraid of future attacks by giant strongman supervillains, no one fearing the police headquarters suddenly standing up and falling on them. No one even had scars or phobia from the mass electrocution; simply put, no one was that affected by the event. Except for one person.
He is a person whose details I forgot (My sketch notebook, where the storyblog is based, is not with me.). The thing is, he was once a friend of Ver who became thin due to the artificial famine caused by food-looters, but survived. Because this unnamed person was very thin, he was often teased by people around him, including Ver. But this all changed when Ver exclaimed "Nothing could possibly be thinner than you!"
"POOF!"
The unnamed person became very, very thin indeed. He became a mostly 1-dimensional man, but with a circular 2-dimensional face, hands, and feet. (Think of him as a stick character, or better yet, click this.)
And because his body was mostly one-dimensional, no one at that time saw him (He could be seen only as a stick, and when his two-dimensional features reflect enough light to hit the light receptors.) He then fled in the sort of shame someone normally gets when interdimensionally transformed, which I think is similar to a garment malfunction shame. But don't worry, he will return in the next story.
Ver 05
The masses were shocked.
Well, of course it is quite shocking for a citizen of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich that a supervillain with superstrength is ripping his or her beloved city apart, and even more shocking that the supervillain just grew some hundred or so feet, and even more shocking is to see the giant police mecha which now is bringing some truly physical form of electric shock. And the most shocking of all is the destruction of a white elephant of a police force, and the numerous anomalies in the concept of being taxed for something that obviously won't work efficiently. It's like buying the most expensive high-tech electric rodent killer only to find out that the rats have chewed through the device's wire insulation and had caused a big fire in your home that engulfs all your appliances, including that overpriced mousetrap.
In the wreck that followed, Problem gets back to dismantling that car engine, only that he is a giant that can crush the ruby-encrusted glowstick by accident. But he doesn't know that, being the stereotypical supervillain strongman who falls under the "dumb fighter" stereotype.
Meanwhile, the police commissioner rallies the last of his efforts, er, cohorts with the task of getting The Mythical David's Sling giant-killing, er, gun? No one really knew how it wound up in Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Museum, nor how the archaeologists acquired that artifact weapon, or who made it, or why it is called The Mythical David's Sling in the first place, or even who David is. (I will directly tell you that they have a universe unlike ours (Do you expect any person in this universe to have Ver-like powers?) and have not heard the story of David and Goliath.) But he, together with me, hope that it will take out the giant Problem before the whole storyline gets too kooky. And he initiates a search for a non-police that can use the sling, since he knew that cops can't stop a supervillain.
The commissioner looks around, with the masses still being shocked, and are surprised to see him survive the destruction of the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha. He sees Ver, by which time the police give The Mythical David's Sling to the commissioner.
With all the formality of a proper policeman, the commissioner sends some cops to drag Ver out of the charged puddle and onto drier ground. "Look, kid, that giant is rampaging through town and we can't stop him. Now you have The Mythical David's Sling, and we believe that you will make that giant fall."
Ver simply answers "OK. No problem."
And with a "POOF!", Problem is gone.
"Kid, I don't know how you used that thing, but good work there."
"I didn't even know how to use this thing!"
"Whatever."
And there the story ends. I actually sketched these before and made them into comics, but I don't have a scanner, and I don't have the notebook either. So I don't expect to write about the other drawings I have drawn in the notebook, and this may be the last Ver story, Goodnight.
Well, of course it is quite shocking for a citizen of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich that a supervillain with superstrength is ripping his or her beloved city apart, and even more shocking that the supervillain just grew some hundred or so feet, and even more shocking is to see the giant police mecha which now is bringing some truly physical form of electric shock. And the most shocking of all is the destruction of a white elephant of a police force, and the numerous anomalies in the concept of being taxed for something that obviously won't work efficiently. It's like buying the most expensive high-tech electric rodent killer only to find out that the rats have chewed through the device's wire insulation and had caused a big fire in your home that engulfs all your appliances, including that overpriced mousetrap.
In the wreck that followed, Problem gets back to dismantling that car engine, only that he is a giant that can crush the ruby-encrusted glowstick by accident. But he doesn't know that, being the stereotypical supervillain strongman who falls under the "dumb fighter" stereotype.
Meanwhile, the police commissioner rallies the last of his efforts, er, cohorts with the task of getting The Mythical David's Sling giant-killing, er, gun? No one really knew how it wound up in Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Museum, nor how the archaeologists acquired that artifact weapon, or who made it, or why it is called The Mythical David's Sling in the first place, or even who David is. (I will directly tell you that they have a universe unlike ours (Do you expect any person in this universe to have Ver-like powers?) and have not heard the story of David and Goliath.) But he, together with me, hope that it will take out the giant Problem before the whole storyline gets too kooky. And he initiates a search for a non-police that can use the sling, since he knew that cops can't stop a supervillain.
The commissioner looks around, with the masses still being shocked, and are surprised to see him survive the destruction of the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha. He sees Ver, by which time the police give The Mythical David's Sling to the commissioner.
With all the formality of a proper policeman, the commissioner sends some cops to drag Ver out of the charged puddle and onto drier ground. "Look, kid, that giant is rampaging through town and we can't stop him. Now you have The Mythical David's Sling, and we believe that you will make that giant fall."
Ver simply answers "OK. No problem."
And with a "POOF!", Problem is gone.
"Kid, I don't know how you used that thing, but good work there."
"I didn't even know how to use this thing!"
"Whatever."
And there the story ends. I actually sketched these before and made them into comics, but I don't have a scanner, and I don't have the notebook either. So I don't expect to write about the other drawings I have drawn in the notebook, and this may be the last Ver story, Goodnight.
Ver 04
So where were we? Ah, yes, the commissioner pushed the butoon, which somewhat looks like a button, somewhat sounds like a button, and works like a button, but replaces the first "button" word. A sign of an amateur covering an amateur's mistake with an amateur explanation. And because the button was pressed, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha, with the commissioner in command, and will stop Problem.
So finally they met. It did not take too long because Problem's location can be traced by the trail of destruction he left and the looting that followed. (Remember, the can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor rolled outside a convenience store, indicating that the self-closing door usually found in these shops is disabled. Of course, now that you know his destructiveness, I will just tell you that he managed, obviously easily, to break the glass walls of the convenience store in such a way that there is no obstruction in the path of the can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor that rolled and caused Ver to have an accident with the can of ham-flavored roast turkey.)
To describe what I imagine would be a typical Problem-style trail of destruction, there would be smashed-up and overturned police cars (common), broken fire hydrants with water gushing out (more common), a mess of the masses (commoner), and general disorder (most common). That will be creative enough. Now, onto the battle.
The police saw their target hastily disassembling a police car engine for some ruby-encrusted glow stick he dropped. You know, one of those everyday objects like hamburgers and toilet paper that enter New York and is suddenly encrusted with lustrous minerals like crystal meth, made into news and then hidden in some private collection to be used as what it should be. If it was flypaper it goes to New York and becomes a amethyst-studded flypaper, made into news, bought by the Caliph of Oilydesertstan, and finally is used as ordinary flypaper. How one of these stuff went to Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich you ask? In this case, the CEO of some DIY fortune-telling kit company bought a ruby-encrusted glowsitck and was pickpocketed without him knowing it, and then the pickpocket sold it in one of the most hip black markets, where it was on display until the Problem came.
He took it and wondered how cool it was in a dark place, so he took a pipe to peer at it. But, the pipe was connected to the tail of a car and is properly know as a tailpipe. So when he looked, the stick slipped deeper into oblivion. And when he thought he already found something shimmering inside the muffler, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha blocked out the sun, with the police commissioner saying something on the lines of "Put your hands up in the air." or "Surrender or die." We don't exactly know, the mecha engines are too noisy.
Problem said "Don't block the sun!"
The commissioner was yelling over his megaphone something incoherent over the din of the V8000's. Imagine an ordinary V8 engine, only upsized.
Then Problem decided to take action, and pinched the big metal foot of the police mecha.
The masses watched.
Some pipes and wires were exposed, and then they spurted out black Oilydesertstan oil, which were ignited by the exposed wires, and quickly became a fireball. Normally any ordinary character would be killed by smoke inhalation, fire vacuum, lung combustion, or burns, but Problem is a supervillain which cannot be harmed by any police activity, so he survives the fireball. And because he is a supervillain, the fireball actually avoided him and jumped to the police mecha's other foot.
"Verb surplus parts!", shouted the commissioner. And for those who wonder, "Verb" is a minced oath.
Ver, one of those in the crowd, commented "That's a big problem." And his words came true in twisted logic. In a "POOF!", Problem became a big Problem, about as tall as the police mecha and a lot wider, and thus, more stable. And then did the battle begin.
I would really like to stop here and build up climax like annoying commercials do, but commercials are too annoying to be emulated, so I continue.
With a flick of a finger, Problem detached the spindly arms of the mecha, pouring coolant water all over the place. With a fancy wrestling move, also known as punch, the body was badly damaged. And with a haymaker punch, by Problem of course, the police mecha fell down to its own pool of water (its blood), with exposed wires still snapping and live.
The masses were shocked.
So finally they met. It did not take too long because Problem's location can be traced by the trail of destruction he left and the looting that followed. (Remember, the can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor rolled outside a convenience store, indicating that the self-closing door usually found in these shops is disabled. Of course, now that you know his destructiveness, I will just tell you that he managed, obviously easily, to break the glass walls of the convenience store in such a way that there is no obstruction in the path of the can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor that rolled and caused Ver to have an accident with the can of ham-flavored roast turkey.)
To describe what I imagine would be a typical Problem-style trail of destruction, there would be smashed-up and overturned police cars (common), broken fire hydrants with water gushing out (more common), a mess of the masses (commoner), and general disorder (most common). That will be creative enough. Now, onto the battle.
The police saw their target hastily disassembling a police car engine for some ruby-encrusted glow stick he dropped. You know, one of those everyday objects like hamburgers and toilet paper that enter New York and is suddenly encrusted with lustrous minerals like crystal meth, made into news and then hidden in some private collection to be used as what it should be. If it was flypaper it goes to New York and becomes a amethyst-studded flypaper, made into news, bought by the Caliph of Oilydesertstan, and finally is used as ordinary flypaper. How one of these stuff went to Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich you ask? In this case, the CEO of some DIY fortune-telling kit company bought a ruby-encrusted glowsitck and was pickpocketed without him knowing it, and then the pickpocket sold it in one of the most hip black markets, where it was on display until the Problem came.
He took it and wondered how cool it was in a dark place, so he took a pipe to peer at it. But, the pipe was connected to the tail of a car and is properly know as a tailpipe. So when he looked, the stick slipped deeper into oblivion. And when he thought he already found something shimmering inside the muffler, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha blocked out the sun, with the police commissioner saying something on the lines of "Put your hands up in the air." or "Surrender or die." We don't exactly know, the mecha engines are too noisy.
Problem said "Don't block the sun!"
The commissioner was yelling over his megaphone something incoherent over the din of the V8000's. Imagine an ordinary V8 engine, only upsized.
Then Problem decided to take action, and pinched the big metal foot of the police mecha.
The masses watched.
Some pipes and wires were exposed, and then they spurted out black Oilydesertstan oil, which were ignited by the exposed wires, and quickly became a fireball. Normally any ordinary character would be killed by smoke inhalation, fire vacuum, lung combustion, or burns, but Problem is a supervillain which cannot be harmed by any police activity, so he survives the fireball. And because he is a supervillain, the fireball actually avoided him and jumped to the police mecha's other foot.
"Verb surplus parts!", shouted the commissioner. And for those who wonder, "Verb" is a minced oath.
Ver, one of those in the crowd, commented "That's a big problem." And his words came true in twisted logic. In a "POOF!", Problem became a big Problem, about as tall as the police mecha and a lot wider, and thus, more stable. And then did the battle begin.
I would really like to stop here and build up climax like annoying commercials do, but commercials are too annoying to be emulated, so I continue.
With a flick of a finger, Problem detached the spindly arms of the mecha, pouring coolant water all over the place. With a fancy wrestling move, also known as punch, the body was badly damaged. And with a haymaker punch, by Problem of course, the police mecha fell down to its own pool of water (its blood), with exposed wires still snapping and live.
The masses were shocked.
Ver 03
He pushed the butoon. To elaborate, the police commissioner pushed the big, red button that was under the hidden flap inside his desk inside the police headquarters of the city of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, and that is enough. Any more elaboration will be unnecessary, for now. And what happened next might be the most creative thing in this blog.
The Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha. Oh, I forgot to put the exclamation point. '!'. So that phrase "The Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha." is now "The Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha!"
Yes, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha. You know, a humanoid robot similar to Roomba, only more humanoid, anime-like, and bigger than the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters, which is big. The point is, the police now have a big Japanese battlebot to fight Problem. Never mind where the giant legs, arms, blasters, and burning sword came from, or how much of the taxes of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich were diverted into this, or how no one noticed the big mecha engines before, or what is happening to the police officer inside who was sipping from his coffee cup when the police headquarters suddenly stood up rather unsteadily like a real humanoid does. And to answer a more important question, yes, obviously the police commissioner is commanding the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha from its command post, which anatomically would correspond to the 'head' of the mecha.
Usually, a comic book would devote 15 pages for something extraordinary like this, imagine the local police finally having something like a giant mecha in an ordinary city in the 20th century, but I will devote only one blog entry. Remember, I am only an amateur, so don't expect me to describe it that richly. And if you count the words I used and find that it is a lot less than 15,000 words, because you think that a picture is worth more than a thousand words, it is because I am not describing a picture I can't even draw with pencil, paper, and colored pencils. And that I am an amateur.
Simply put, the police have a giant mecha and are willing to use it against Problem.
The Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha. Oh, I forgot to put the exclamation point. '!'. So that phrase "The Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha." is now "The Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha!"
Yes, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters became a giant mecha. You know, a humanoid robot similar to Roomba, only more humanoid, anime-like, and bigger than the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters, which is big. The point is, the police now have a big Japanese battlebot to fight Problem. Never mind where the giant legs, arms, blasters, and burning sword came from, or how much of the taxes of Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich were diverted into this, or how no one noticed the big mecha engines before, or what is happening to the police officer inside who was sipping from his coffee cup when the police headquarters suddenly stood up rather unsteadily like a real humanoid does. And to answer a more important question, yes, obviously the police commissioner is commanding the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Headquarters Mecha from its command post, which anatomically would correspond to the 'head' of the mecha.
Usually, a comic book would devote 15 pages for something extraordinary like this, imagine the local police finally having something like a giant mecha in an ordinary city in the 20th century, but I will devote only one blog entry. Remember, I am only an amateur, so don't expect me to describe it that richly. And if you count the words I used and find that it is a lot less than 15,000 words, because you think that a picture is worth more than a thousand words, it is because I am not describing a picture I can't even draw with pencil, paper, and colored pencils. And that I am an amateur.
Simply put, the police have a giant mecha and are willing to use it against Problem.
Ver 02
Do you really expect a stand-off this early? No. Usually, some random stuff in the middle of the book happen between the introduction and the climax, and this is a part of it.
So where were we? Ah, yes, after whatever incident that happened in the last entry, the villain, Problem, has begun massive robbing sprees. He carried off so much loot, his 'motorized pushcart', actually a rusty banged-up pick-up truck, broke down because the weight of the stuff he was looting off the still-unnamed city, which for ease we will call Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, overwhelmed the truck engine. And like a stereotypical villain of superhero story, he has superstrength, which makes him a supervillain, which makes Ver a sort of accidental superhero. So now we have our first supervillain: Problem, whose power is superstrength. And as an added bonus for being a supervillain, he gets invulnerability to ordinary bullets, batons, and any police attempt to stop him.
Gee, how creative can I get?
So, back to the story then. Like any supervillain crime spree in comics and movies, the police will attempt to stop him. The police, of course, fails, their enemy being a supervillain. But, like a good storyblogger of an unillustrated comic, I will describe how it happened.
By this time, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Department has noticed the criminal activities of Problem. They had dispatched police squads, and have made a barricade of police cars in a semicircle around the computer shop he was robbing. When Problem finally left the computer shop, the police blabber something on the lines of "Put your hands up in the air." or "Surrender or die."
Of course Problem didn't care what they were sayin’, rushing towards the first police car in a rampage, the bullets dodging him, like they always do against a rampaging supervillain. So he wrecks the cars, mayhem happens, and one of the police calls the police station for reinforcements.
For a change, to remind you that you are reading an amateur's unillustrated action comics blog and not a fully illustrated, richly colored comic book (What, didn't notice that there are no drawings?), the police commisioner has decided that drastic measures be taken against a supervillain like Problem. So he flips a secret flap in his office desk, and there a big, red button is.
He pushes the button.
So where were we? Ah, yes, after whatever incident that happened in the last entry, the villain, Problem, has begun massive robbing sprees. He carried off so much loot, his 'motorized pushcart', actually a rusty banged-up pick-up truck, broke down because the weight of the stuff he was looting off the still-unnamed city, which for ease we will call Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich, overwhelmed the truck engine. And like a stereotypical villain of superhero story, he has superstrength, which makes him a supervillain, which makes Ver a sort of accidental superhero. So now we have our first supervillain: Problem, whose power is superstrength. And as an added bonus for being a supervillain, he gets invulnerability to ordinary bullets, batons, and any police attempt to stop him.
Gee, how creative can I get?
So, back to the story then. Like any supervillain crime spree in comics and movies, the police will attempt to stop him. The police, of course, fails, their enemy being a supervillain. But, like a good storyblogger of an unillustrated comic, I will describe how it happened.
By this time, the Heudringottingenberger-und-Hzyepterzchwagenoftereich Police Department has noticed the criminal activities of Problem. They had dispatched police squads, and have made a barricade of police cars in a semicircle around the computer shop he was robbing. When Problem finally left the computer shop, the police blabber something on the lines of "Put your hands up in the air." or "Surrender or die."
Of course Problem didn't care what they were sayin’, rushing towards the first police car in a rampage, the bullets dodging him, like they always do against a rampaging supervillain. So he wrecks the cars, mayhem happens, and one of the police calls the police station for reinforcements.
For a change, to remind you that you are reading an amateur's unillustrated action comics blog and not a fully illustrated, richly colored comic book (What, didn't notice that there are no drawings?), the police commisioner has decided that drastic measures be taken against a supervillain like Problem. So he flips a secret flap in his office desk, and there a big, red button is.
He pushes the button.
Ver 01
One day, Ver was walking. Yes, that is how most fairytale characters that I know start their day, and Ver is no exception.
On the other side of the street, a crime is taking place...
A neckless, muscular man, lifting a pair of refrigerators still full, plugged, and operating, is threatening the convenience store clerk to not call the police or he will throw the fridges on the unarmed clerk. Oh, and that he was robbing the store.
And like all good main fairytale characters, Ver doesn't care. He is too kind to bother the villain in his job until he is hurt. And at that time, the yet-unnamed villain accidentally nudged a can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor off the shelf. And who would have guessed that it would roll outside the store, down the street, and into Ver's path.
In true fairytale fashion, Ver had an accident with the can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor, and only then had he noticed the robbery.
"That villain sure is problem." Ver said. And he walked away, leaving the can of roast turkey on the sidewalk where he crashed into it.
And the story would have been over, had it not been that Ver's words had the capability to warp reality in such a way that he rarely, if ever, lies. So "POOF!" Yes, "POOF!", the sound of magic and Koko Krunch advertisements type of "POOF!" goes and suddenly, the unnamed villain now has a name: Problem.
So now the villain has a name. Now, for the stand-off between the main character and the villain of his creation, go to the next blog entry.
On the other side of the street, a crime is taking place...
A neckless, muscular man, lifting a pair of refrigerators still full, plugged, and operating, is threatening the convenience store clerk to not call the police or he will throw the fridges on the unarmed clerk. Oh, and that he was robbing the store.
And like all good main fairytale characters, Ver doesn't care. He is too kind to bother the villain in his job until he is hurt. And at that time, the yet-unnamed villain accidentally nudged a can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor off the shelf. And who would have guessed that it would roll outside the store, down the street, and into Ver's path.
In true fairytale fashion, Ver had an accident with the can of Schlopper's Roast Turkey Ham Flavor, and only then had he noticed the robbery.
"That villain sure is problem." Ver said. And he walked away, leaving the can of roast turkey on the sidewalk where he crashed into it.
And the story would have been over, had it not been that Ver's words had the capability to warp reality in such a way that he rarely, if ever, lies. So "POOF!" Yes, "POOF!", the sound of magic and Koko Krunch advertisements type of "POOF!" goes and suddenly, the unnamed villain now has a name: Problem.
So now the villain has a name. Now, for the stand-off between the main character and the villain of his creation, go to the next blog entry.
Ver 03/04/08
Remember Ver? That person that was so easy to draw?
He won't be drawn here.
He was drawn with a mouse and paint.exe. To elaborate the difficulty of doing it is injustice to the Trex that drew him, because it was that difficult.
He will be instead hopefully be portrayed in his fictional life through words.
Yes, words.
They may not be a visual feast, but I am not feeding your eyes, either. This is a story version of a to-be comic. And you will have to read it to imagine Ver.
Yes, this Multiply will be temporarily converted to a storyblog, which, opposed to a storybook, is online and can be read in the dark.
This will be, no, this is the preface of the storyblog of Ver. This will be under the lax copyright laws of the Republic of the Philippines; we ask you to not recycle the character concepts without my supervision and/or royalties because we expect you to follow the law.
Thank you.
He won't be drawn here.
He was drawn with a mouse and paint.exe. To elaborate the difficulty of doing it is injustice to the Trex that drew him, because it was that difficult.
He will be instead hopefully be portrayed in his fictional life through words.
Yes, words.
They may not be a visual feast, but I am not feeding your eyes, either. This is a story version of a to-be comic. And you will have to read it to imagine Ver.
Yes, this Multiply will be temporarily converted to a storyblog, which, opposed to a storybook, is online and can be read in the dark.
This will be, no, this is the preface of the storyblog of Ver. This will be under the lax copyright laws of the Republic of the Philippines; we ask you to not recycle the character concepts without my supervision and/or royalties because we expect you to follow the law.
Thank you.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
